


The Past is What Makes

by TyrannoVox



Series: Off Course [1]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy)
Genre: Adoption, Caring!Optimus, Father-Son Relationship, Hotshot is a Halfling, Mentions of Malnourishment, Pretty much adopted Hotshot the first time he seen the mechling, Sparkling abandonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrannoVox/pseuds/TyrannoVox
Summary: Pre- Not Alone, What was Hotshot’s childhood like? Time to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For all who are curious of what Hotshot's childhood is like in the Off Course Verse. Also, I'd hope that this will keep some of you guys occupied while waiting for the 3rd chapter of Not Alone. Enjoy! Make sure to leave a comment as well.

Baby blue optics lit up and already, the small few weeks old sparkling could see two distinct shadows above him by a light of a overhanging light. His small processor couldn’t process any of their features because of the light. What it could process was one had something jutting out of the sides of one, wings he would learn, and the other had large, rounded shoulders.

The sparkling lifted his arms up, doing grabby hands towards the shadows but neither moved, just continue to stand still and look down at him. He clicked up at them in slight confusion and started to chirp and whirl, trying to convey that he wants to be picked up.

Still, the shadows made no move to. Instead, they stepped back before walking away, clearly ignoring the distressed sounds coming from the sparkling’s vocalizer until he couldn’t see them anymore. He began to whimper, trying to curl more into himself.

Then, he was being picked up and he was being carried. Then, he was being set in a crib and then he was left there, still whimpering in distress.

No caretaker had attempting to console the sparkling, Hotshot, and instead, went about their shifts tending to the other sparklings around him.

Hotshot did eventually fell asleep a few hours later, coolant tears drying on his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here's chapter 2! Remember to leave a comment and tell me what you guys think!

Hotshot, now six years old, watched as the other younglings ran around the reinforced outerwalls that enclosed the Youth Center and it’s grounds without much care in the world. The older younglings were also playing, though they were mainly wrestling all over the ground, trying to best one another.

The yellow youngling could not understand why the younglings wouldn’t play with him or why the caretakers of the Center only give him the bare minimum of care. It was obvious that they have no love for him like they do with the other younglings, which had hurt him deeply.

“Hotshot,” a voice behind him called out, making him look over his shoulder. He could see one of the caretakers standing at the entrance of the building, regarding him with barely any warmth in her optics. “Come along.”

The youngling deflated but he stood up and shuffled into the building, knowing that throwing a fit would only get him into unwanted trouble. 

He followed her inside and to the community berthroom. It was pretty much just a large room with a bunch of berths in it.

Hotshot was quick to go to his assigned berth, which was in the corner of the room and got into it before watching as the caretaker walked out of sight, leaving him there alone. It was always like this for him. He always had to go to berth early while the others were playing and having fun until it was time for them to come in. Pit, they never even let him eat with the others at all.

He let out a small sigh and settled down in the berth, curling up on his side and tried to get some recharge and just when he was about to...he heard screaming coming from the outside, and yelling. He sat up and looked at the doorway in confusion. Why were they screaming? What was going on?

Just as he was about to slip off of the berth to go check, a thunderous roar of an explosion suddenly sounded and the building shook harshly, making him quickly grabbing the bed and letting out a yelp in fear and surprise. He quickly squeezed in between the berth and the wall as more explosions shook the building. Thank Primus he was rather small for his age.

Another explosion sounded, this one sounded closer than before...and then he had to cover his audio receptors as one sounded right at the entrance of the room with a bright flash and everything was crumbling around him.

* * *

 

Golden optics looked on the smoking carnage with sorrow and they particularly lingered on the mangled and charred remains of small and big frames alike. The cruelty of the Decepticons knew no bounds, it seemed.

“We’re too late…” Smokescreen frowned as he too, stared at the carnage.

“Come, we must look for survivors.” The owner of the golden optics, Optimus Prime, told the other before he began to walk towards the destroyed Youth Center. He was careful to not step on any of the remains of all those who had once called the building home.

“I’m not sure if there will be any survivors, Optimus.” Smokescreen eyed the destruction. 

“We have to try.” The leader stepped into the rubble, brightening his optics so they would cast a golden glow on whatever he was looking at. He began to shift through the rubble, hoping to find at least one survivor. If he could find one, than it would be enough for him. 

As the time went on though, as he and Smokescreen continued to shift through the rubble, his hope began to diminish more and more...until he happened upon a room that had destroyed berths everywhere.

He took a step forward and he must had stepped on something flimsy cause there was a loud crack of something snapping. That’s when he heard it...a whimper. 

His helm snapped towards the direction of where it had came from. He could see a half destroyed berth next to a still standing part of a wall and there was two sections of the wall that was blocking the space between...except for a small crack at the top.

He carefully walked over, fitting three fingers through the gap and managed to move it off of the gap and the berth before doing the same that was blocking the front. Once that was done he peeked inside and within the gap was a small, yellow and red mechling, baby blue optics wide and wet with tears, looking at him with fear.

“It’s alright.” Optimus lowered his voice to a low, soothing rumble. “I’m not going to hurt you, you’re safe.”

The youngling just let out small whimpers and distressed clicks which made Optimus’ spark ache. He had always had a soft spot for younglings and sparklings, even before he got the Matrix, and hearing this little one cower was making him want to pick up the mechling and hold him close to comfort him.

“I’ll wait out here until your ready to come out.” Optimus then moved away and sat down against the berth, cross legged before he commed Smokescreen, telling him to get any files if there were still working terminals around. Once he got acknowledgement, he relaxed and continued to wait, listening for any indication of the youngling coming out.

Five minutes passed, then ten… Once it hit twenty minutes, he heard movement coming from within the gap and soon, out of the corner of his optic, the little yellow helm poked out of the gap, looking at him with a cautious look. Optimus didn’t move just yet and let the younger come out at his own pace.

After about thirty minutes, the youngling finally slipped out of the gap but didn’t move towards the larger mech and just sat at the entrance of the gap, not moving. It was at this time that Optimus could see the scuffs and dust on the yellow armor.

Finally, after about ten more minutes of him just sitting there, just watching the leader....he stood up and began to walk towards the older and, after a little hesitation, climbed into Optimus’ lap with a small chirp. 

Optimus smiled behind his mask and began to gently rub the back of the little yellow helm, watching as the younger eventually relaxes against the rubbing. Then, the youngling began to click, but it wasn’t the clicks that he was expecting. He was expecting the usual incoherent mess that was identified as a youngling that was a grounder. These...were in a pattern.

_ Click Click Click...silence for four seconds…..click click click….repeat. _

The only ones who had a patterned clicks were seekers but that didn’t make any sense. This youngling was a grounder.

Unless…

His comm crackled to life a moment later, almost startling him.

“Optimus, sir. I managed to get some of the files.” Smokescreen’s voice filtered in after he answered the comm.

“Good work, I’ll meet you back outside.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Smokescreen cut the comm and Optimus stood up after bring his arms around to hold the youngling. They yellow helm came against his chest and Optimus began to let his engine rumble soothingly so it didn’t startle the younger. Then, he began to make his way to where he had came in at and once he does, he could see Smokescreen already there, waiting for him.

“Sir, is that…” Smokescreen trailed off as he noticed the small frame in Optimus’ hold.

“Yes, I found him between a berth and a wall.” Optimus told the other. Now, let us go. I want him to be checked up as soon as possible.”

Smokescreen simply nodded and then they were on their way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get done and get out here! Please forgive me. But hey, here, have some fluff. Also, sorry for this chapter being so short! But, anyways, enjoy!
> 
> Remember to leave a review to tell me what you thought about this chapter.

When the two got to Iacon and into the Autobot headquarters, The sun was setting. The two went straight to the med-bay where their CMO, Ratchet, and Red Alert, his son and assistant, were. It wasn’t that long of a walk, though Optimus was trying to cover up the youngling as much as he could for the youngling’s benefit. He could feel the yellow mechling shifting as soon as they walked through the entrance of the very large building.

Smokescreen was first to walk into the med-bay, most likely to inform them on their new, small patient. His hand appeared after a moment and did a waving gesture and Optimus walked into the medbay, listening to the door shutting behind him. 

“You have the guest with you?” questioned Ratchet as he looked at his oldest friend. Optimus nodded, walked over before carefully set the youngling on the med-berth and the youngling stared up at the larger mechs that surrounded him, Smokescreen walking away to look through the files he had gotten from the Youth Center’s database.

A section of armor shifted on Ratchet’s forearm and a scanner rose and shot a bluish beam of right, coming over the youngling. The small mech let out a startled squeak, his arms flailing in the air until Ratchet was done and he turned towards a terminal not far off, against the wall.

Optimus scooped the younger up, bringing him up to his chest and stroke the youngling’s back gently as he watched Ratchet at the terminal, Red Alert walking up beside his creator and looking at the results of the scan.

“Well, the good news is that he doesn’t have any serious injuries, he’s just malnourished.”

“Did you check the information Smokescreen gave to you?” Optimus questioned and Red Alert nodded in response.

“His name is Hotshot. He’s fairly young, although he’s at the age where he should be able to talk. There’s... something else.”

Optimus stared at the younger mech, noting his hesitation… and nodded. “He’s a halfling, isn’t he?”

“Yes. It would explain his malnourishment. He’s going to need around the clock care until he has a healthy energon intake. I think leaving him here with me and carrier would be good.”

Optimus peered down at the youngling- no, Hotshot, and Hotshot stared back at him with wide, pleading optics. He knew what he was pleading for and he didn't have the spark to deny the plea.

“I think it would be better if he stayed with me.” Optimus stated as he looked up at the two.

“But… Optimus sir-” Red Alert began but Ratchet set a hand on the younger’s shoulder, shaking his helm.

“Optimus is right. It would be better for the youngling to stay with him. Besides, Hotshot is already attached to him.”

The young assistant sighed, nodding before going into one of the attached rooms. Optimus paid him no mind and just turned his direction to Hotshot, who was clicking up at him. His golden optics soften before looking back up when he heard Red Alert walking back in with some cubes of slightly discolored energon- medical low grade- with lids on them so they don’t spill.

“Feed him these twice a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. Make sure he drinks slowly, if he drinks too fast that it will upset his tanks and he will bring it back up.”

Optimus nodded, subspacing the cubes- he counted the cubes, it was enough for the night and tomorrow- and adjusted the youngling. With a parting nod, he left the medbay and down the hall, towards living half of the base. Because of the war, most of the enlisted mechs had to stay and live at Autobot Headquarters. Since he was the leader, Optimus got the nicer quarters near the entrance to the living quarters.

He palmed the pad beside the automatic door once he got to his door and watched as red turned to green on the pad and the door slid up, revealing a large room that had a berth, a terminal and a desk with datapads neatly stacked.

He sat Hotshot on the desk and pulled out a cube, undoing the lid and pressed the edge of the cube against the youngling’s lips, tilting it until the contents begin to touch the upper lip. “Drink, Hotshot. You’ll be able to rest afterwards.”

Hotshot fussed slightly, not wanting to feed but after a few minutes, gave up and opened his mouth, letting the energon filter in.

Optimus kept an eye at how fast Hotshot going, always tilting the cube down when it looked like Hotshot was starting to feed a little too fast. It didn’t take long until Hotshot had drained the cube, making Optimus pull it away and dropping it into the waste bin. He scooped Hotshot up once more and walked to the berth, settling down on it on his back and placed Hotshot on his chest, letting his engine rumble softly.

Hotshot squeaked before letting his head drop onto the chest, listening to the rumbling  and feeling the vibrations that were stutting to lul him to recharge. His optics dimmed before fully shutting off and his patterned clicks began to fill the room.

Optimus listened, lifting a hand and settled it onto the younger’s back, his own optics dimming. He was slowly falling into recharge himself, listening to the clicking  and his own engine rumbling and then he was in blissful recharge for once in a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, sorry that this is so short. i am trying my best. There's gonna be a considerable timeskip so the next chapter will be when he goes into the Academy and meeting his two best friends.
> 
> ALSO; You guys can use this origin story for Hotshot for ANY thing I write like Trine. This childhood is my default version of his childhood.
> 
> Now, Enjoy!

A week passed and it seemed that Hotshot was getting better. He was now talking, though they were only small words, never in complete sentences. Ratchet had assured that it was normal when a youngling goes through trauma like Hotshot had. One thing’s for sure, though, the youngling was attached to Optimus, always keeping close or just fussing for Optimus to hold him. 

It was clear that the youngling was already seeing Optimus as a sire-figure and no matter how much Optimus argued with himself, he couldn’t help but already see the youngling as his son. Thus, some of the Autobots were working on building another room attached to his for Hotshot.

Currently, the leader of the Autobots was sitting in his office, that was more or less in the middle of the Autobot Headquarters with Hotshot  sitting on the floor next to him, playing with some toys the other had brought. Optimus was reading up on some reports of the recent attacks on the smaller cities from the Decepticons. His spark went out to all those who had been offlined and those who had survived but had lost loved ones.

A knock came from the door, making Optimus stop reading and lift his helm up. “Come in.”

A white mech with golden optics and a golden facemask like his own came waltzing in once the door opened, wings in their normal, relaxed position. “Hey, OP, how’s it been?”

“Hello, Jetfire. I take it your mission was a success?”

“Of course it was! Did I ever let you down before?”

“Well…” Optimus began, tone teasing.

“Don’t even.”

Optimus simply chuckled.

“So, heard you added someone to the family.” Jetfire tilted his helm. “Did you decided to get some or did you find a stray who you couldn’t say no to?”

Optimus scooped Hotshot up, making him squeal and set him on the desk, keeping both arms on either side of the youngling. “This is Hotshot.”

“Second, then.” Jetfire nodded before bending down to get a closer look at the mechling, who was looking up at him with wide blue optics. “Yeah, definitely a stray you couldn’t say no to, especially with those big optics.”

“Smokescreen and I found him in a destroyed Youth Center. There’s something else, too.”

“What is it?”

“He’s a halfling.” 

Jetfire stilled at that, staring at the mechling. A halfling? Well...that would explain why he was in the center in the first place. It was always the same, no matter who he came across. Halflings almost always got dropped off at a Youth Center not long after they were born. If the creators didn’t, then they just typically left them to die.

In the current Caste climate, grounders and seekers are not meant to have such relationships, especially if they are of high class. If it was found out that they had and they were sparked, it would ruin their reputation with others in their caste. It’s sad but it was always a thing way before the war had started.

After another moment, he began to do his patterned clicks and watched as the youngling’s face lit up. The two began to click to each other that slowly morphed into their own familial pattern that was a mix of their own patterns.

Optimus’ optics soften slightly at the two, glad that Hotshot was coming out of his shell. He was still hesitant around Ratchet and Red Alert and he had known him longer that Jetfire.

“I’m stealing the little mech.” Jetfire announced, scooping Hotshot up and brought him close to his chest. “I am taking him and show him the joys of flying.”

“Jetfire-” 

“Relax, sir. I’ll keep him safe, you know that. Besides, it will give you a few hours to work in peace.” Jetfire looked down at Hotshot. “You ready to go flying, kid?”

“Fly!” Hotshot chirped in excitement.

“That’s the spirit!” Jetfire zoomed out of the office, Hotshot’s laughter fading away and leaving Optimus in silence.

The mech shook his head, knowing that the two will be close in no time. With a small sigh, he went back to reading the reports, smiling as he did so.


End file.
